ON Petrarch's heart, all other
In flaming letters written, was
GOOD FRIDAY. And on mine, be it
Is this year's ADVENT, as it passeth o'er.
I do not now begin,--I still adore
Her whom I early cherish'd in my
Then once again with prudence dispossess'd,
And to whose heart I'm driven back once more.
The love of Petrarch, that all-glorious
Was unrequited, and, alas, full
One long Good Friday 'twas,
one heartache drear
But may my mistress' Advent ever
With its palm-jubilee, so sweet
One endless Mayday, through
the livelong year!